'Click.' The door lock engaged. Amelia Clarke had just stuffed a few noodles into her mouth and turned her head to look. "Why are you back? I'm about to finish eating."
Owen Moreland stood leaning against the door frame, one hand resting on the belt at his waist, his gaze fixed steadily on Amelia Clarke.
Amelia Clarke gradually began to feel some discomfort. She glanced down, noticing the neckline of her shirt was very loose. She subtly raised her left hand to button it up, explaining awkwardly: "I was busy catching my flight last night and didn't even have time to shower. Just now, I felt uncomfortable, so I took a quick shower at your place. When I came out, I realized I didn't have any clean clothes, so—"
"Eat up." Owen interrupted her explanation lightly. It sounded like both a push and a casual remark.
